Once upon a time in Chicago
by Sousaphone
Summary: From Emily's POV. Comedic look at her life as she heads off to Chicago with Rossi for a case involving the Mafia  hence the name , with some smut thrown in there a little later.
1. Chapter 1

My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV. A little more comedic than my other fic's,  
>I'm kind trying out a new writing story. So read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)<p>

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

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Waking up I felt as if I'd been hit by a bus, driven over, backed over, then driven over again as he sped away from the crime scene. I reached out to find the bed beside me cold and unwrinkled. I felt a sudden pang of sadness that David wasn't there next to me and slapped it away as abruptly as it had came. I wasn't allowed to have any feelings towards David, especially not longing or sadness.

As I pushed myself from the covers I hung to the possibility that I couldn't look any worse than I felt.

The mirror told me otherwise. My hair, a gift from my father's part Greek side of the family, resembled a bush, a big black one. The make-up I hadn't bothered to peel off my face the night before had ran and smudged to turn me into a clown moonlighting as a prostitute. Just great.

By the time I had finished taming everything to turn myself back into a normal human being, almost an hour had passed and I had about five minutes to get to work. Just fucking great.

I pressed the elevator button, waited a few seconds and when it didn't come made the split second decision to run down the stairs. I was halfway through the first flight when I heard the ding, signaling the elevator had just arrived at my floor. Too late now. I tried to talk myself into believing I needed the exercise anyway. It was a nice idea, but I wasn't buying it.

Once upon a time my mother had lectured me on the importance of punctuality, it had been a skill she had processed in the bucket loads and that had obviously skipped my generation. She'd told me no matter what I did, as long as I tried my hardest and was always on time, I would succeed. I liked to think I'd succeeded pretty well without always being dead on time.

I ran out to the carpark and found my BOS golf sitting waiting for me. The sun was beating down and I could already feel the burning heat that would welcome me when I opened the car door.

I turned the key the first notch and flicked the aircon to fill blast. It didn't help much. I just wanted to get to work and get myself a nice, big cup of coffee. Turning the key in the ignition I expected to hear the steady grunt as the machine attempted to go, but instead I got little more than a whine. I tried again.

Fuck.

I banged my fist against the steering wheel a few times before sitting back, letting the not-so-cold air hit me and counting to five.

I could call one of the team, or I could walk.

Looking outside at the sun shining I sighed. Walking was likely the best idea. And the office was only a few blocks down. And it wasn't like the weather was bad, in fact, the opposite. But I didn't move. My legs were already tired and the day hadn't even begun. How exactly was I expected to function without at least a cup fill of caffeine circulating it's way around my system?

Then I remembered the coffee shop on sixth. It was on the way to the office, so I wouldn't exactly be going out of the way, and the coffee way great.

With the thought of great coffee as my motivation, I pushed myself out of my oven-like car and headed on my way, not bothering to lock it out of half hope that somebody might just do me a favor and steal it.

My heels clicked down the concrete sidewalk and I decided the only way the day could go was up. Obviously, God had chosen that day to play a joke on me. I was only a block into my walk when the sunshine turned to grey and it started to spit.

I started to wonder if my mom had been right about the whole punctuality thing. I mean, if I was on time, I would've already been at the office enjoying my coffee.

Another block later and it was hounding down.

Muttering a number of curses, I speed walked my way to the coffee shop, not wanting to look like a fool or hurt my feet, though I was doing both. Mom had definitely been maybe a little right.

The smell of fresh baking and coffee welcomed me in like a moth to a flame. I exited the store ten dollars poorer but with a grande sized cup of triple shot espresso and a white-chocolate and blueberry muffin. I'd probably already worked off the muffin calories anyway with all the walking I'd done.

Yet by the time I'd reached the BAU the brown paper bag that housed my now soggy muffin was soaked through and I probably bore a lot of resemblance to a drowned rat. When Derek laughed at me I knew I'd guessed correctly. I shot him a look that he got the meaning of straight away. His lips shut and he managed to keep them from curling up at the sides.

I dropped my handbag on the floor, my muffin bag on the table and slumped into the seat next to JJ at the conference table. She too made the smart move not to say anything.

Rossi however, didn't. He came through the door, stopped and looked at me. I could see in his eyes the battle between compassion, laughter and good manners. "Bad morning?" he finally asked, his expressive, rough voice somehow managing to display all three of the feelings he was battling.

"You could say that."

He smiled. Just smiled. I felt my heart do a little leap and told it, not all that politely, to stay down.

Me and Rossi have a strange relationship that yoyos between just coworkers, friends and lovers. I've tried very hard to restrict to the first two, but he has a way of getting underneath all my plans – and my clothes – and having me anyway. I put it down to the fact he's Italian and more than a little bit sexy.

Slowly the room filled, nobody else bearing mention to my drowned appearance. I just sipped my coffee in silence. If there had been any wood around to touch I would've asked how the day could possibly get worse. When Hotch came in, it was time to start the show.

JJ took the floor, her blond hair tied perfectly behind her hair, her blouse perfectly white, her slacks perfectly pressed. It took a lot not to hate her, but it was aided by the fact that she was one of my closest friends. And that if I was lucky she would have a spare set of clothes in her locker that I could borrow.

"Three separate cases," she told us, handing out different files to different people.

All up as a group, there were six of us - not including Pen – two girls to four guys. Sometimes, if the case was a big one, a hard one or an incredibly high profile one, we'd all get on it together. But more often than not we were split up, into either two's or three's, and sent on our merry way. If we were lucky we wouldn't even have to leave the office, helping the coppers of these United States catch serial killers from the comfort of our own swivelly-chairs.

I secretly crossed my fingers for a stay at home case. I could get a pizza, a few PS3 games and head over to Declan's for a night of fun. Who cares if he had school the next day? With my job I need all the time I can get with him.

"Who's going where?" Derek asked.

I looked up at JJ expectantly.

"I got Chicago," Rossi told the world.

I flipped open my file to find I two was headed down to the Windy City. _Joy_. Not that I minded Chicago, lovely city and all that. It was more the idea of being there, alone, with Rossi. When I told him I would be joining him he sent me that smile of his and I felt myself melt. Surprised when I didn't find myself looking up from a pool on the ground.

"You first then," JJ said, playing away with the iPad she held, directing the big screen behind to show what she wanted it to. "A series of twenty people killed over the last year." I could feel my eyes widen. The screen filled with different images. Looking down from it to the file in front of me I wondered how it could possibly all fit. JJ answered my question for me. "Condensed version."

"What is it?" Rossi asked with a half laugh. "The mob?"

"That's what they suspect."

He laughed again before he realized she was serious. "You're kidding. What to they need our help with then?"

"To turn their suspicions into a near definite or to catch the person who's been doing it," JJ explained. Then she turned to the others to explain what they had to do. I zoned out, to tired to try and concentrate on more information than necessary.

I had to admit, the selection of people to go on a Mob related case was a little bit hilarious considering Rossi looked like somebody off the _Godfather_ and I'd like to think I could play one of the women extra's in a low budget version. Guess they profiled that Italian/Americans would prefer to be poked and prodded by 'one of their own kind'. My guess was that they wouldn't let anybody get near enough to even think about poking them, but if I were to pick the person on the team who'd get the closest, it's be Rossi. He had this was about him - this strength, this arrogance, this charm - that came about from being Italian. And he knew just exactly when and how to use the traits his heritage gave him to get what he wanted, he'd used all three on him and she didn't like remembering that she'd given in each time.

She shook her head and tried to focus back on what JJ was saying rather than the tingling she felt in her lower regions.

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Hope you liked it.  
>It's just a start, not to positively sure where it's going but tell me what you think of it.<br>I'm now off to camp, so I shall update in… five days?

x


	2. Chapter 2

My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV. A little more comedic than my other fic's, I'm kind trying out a new writing story. This is small than the chapter's to come, but it didn't fit into chapter one and chapter three would've been massive if it had gone in that. So yeah read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

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"Ready to go?"

I sent him a smile, polite and only a bit sexy.

"Let's go then," he smiled back. "My car or yours?"

My eyes narrowed as his smile turned into a grin. He was making a dig at my car, or my wetness, either way, I still wasn't in the mood. Though the coffee, and the lower region tingling, helped to soften the blow.

"Mine then."

Stepping out into the fill parking lot I spotted his car first. Even I, one with only a small knowledge of cars, recognized it as both masculine and incredibly sexy. It was streamlined, silver and had a hardtop convertible. It's engine purred in a way that had my heart racing. Honestly, taking his car wasn't such a bad thing. The seats, red leather, had those seat warmers. Maybe if I'd listened to my mother I would be driving one of those things.

"Drop into your place first?"

I looked down at the clothes pressed tight against my body by the rain, felt heat rise to my face when I realized Rossi was too looking. I had to clear my throat before I spoke, though I was still scared I wouldn't quite be able to make sound. I put on a smile in an attempt to hide any feelings of embarrassment. Co-workers. "Yes please."

He stopped right outside the door so I wouldn't get wet running in, considerate, though now the pounding rain had lightened to a soft drizzle and the sun was making it's way through the clouds. I barely made it into my apartment before I started peeling off soaked fabric, throwing it on the ground to be cleaned up on my return.

I wrapped myself up in a towel and got to work getting ready. But when I unzipped my go bag, usually waiting, ready to go, a sent of sweat and dirty came to meet me. I remembered I'd only gotten in from the last case the night prior, and that I'd told myself I'd put stuff in the laundry in the morning. Well, it was morning, and I hadn't. Another sniff told me the bag should probably go through the wash with them. Or I could just burn it all. It'd probably cost as much to replace everything as it did for the washing powder to actually get rid of the stink.

I threw the bag in the corner and added it to a mental list of things to do when I got back, along with the clothing strewn all over my apartment floor. Usually I was a little more organized.

Pulling open my draws I found very few clothes usable. I discounted anything that showed off too much cleavage, I didn't want to give Rossi any more ideas. I eventually found some suitable shirts, threw them in a bag with some jeans and slacks, then slipped off my towel to get changed.

I was just pulling a new shirt over my head when I spotted a figure standing in the doorway watching me. "Holy mother…" Then realization that it was Rossi didn't help much. I yanked my shirt the last little bit of my boobs and down to cover my stomach. The tingling was back and this time it'd brought butterflies to my tummy with it.

It wasn't as if he hadn't been in my apartment before, it was just that the last time he was there they hadn't exactly spent the night talking.

"Ready?"

He didn't move. I probably would've died had he don't so.

"Nearly," I told him, annoyed that my voice broke the tiniest bit. I turned my back to him to 'recheck my bag' and regain my composure.

I could feel his eyes on me, studying my every move, undressing me slowly.

Finally, after I'd managed to drop my heartbeat to a mere gallop and dampen my dry throat, I said, "Let's go."

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Hope you liked it.  
>I'm still not exactly sure on the path it shall take,<br>but i know the writing style is starting to change as i'm reading Emma right now.  
>x<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV. A little more comedic than my other fic's,  
>I'm kind trying out a new writing story.<br>So read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

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Despite the triple shot of caffeine I'd had, I slept like a baby in the car. All I remembered was getting in, trying to focus on the words the speakers sang out rather than how close Rossi was and then the next thing I knew I was surrounded by beeping.

I pulled my eyes open and found myself in the middle of the city. Rossi was singing along to the radio, surprisingly in tune. Men that charming should not be allowed to both cook and sing. It just wasn't fair on the female population.

"Good afternoon," he said charmingly as he noticed me awaken. He didn't even look at me. It just wasn't fear. "We're here."

"What happened to the plane?" I asked, my voice groggy with sleep. I rubbed my eyes, careful not to damage my makeup _too_ badly.

"JJ and Morgan took it," he said as if I should already have known. I guessed it had been discussed at the meeting whilst I was too busy dreaming of Rossi.

"Oh yeah," I said, in my best _'I knew that'_ voice.

Rossi's laugh suggested he didn't believe me.

"Want a coffee first? I know a great place."

I must have groaned, cause he laughed again. "Yes please."

The coffee shop was more of a lounge with cozy orange couches to cuddle on, coffee tables to rest your feet on and cute little bistro tables to eat and chat around. The atmosphere was warm and inviting and I never wanted to leave. Whilst I stood and surveyed the room Rossi ordered. When I came back, he already had a number.

"How'd you know what I wanted?"

"You got me to get you coffee once before, remember?"

My mind flicked back to his room. _It was an somewhat modern apartment, with tall windows that stood from floor to ceiling and a bed in the centre of the room with expensive sheets and thousands of pillows and cuddly blankets. He kissed at my neck, his hands, rough, made there way down my sides, cupped my breasts. I pushed my head back into one of the many pillows, moaned._

_"Coffee?" He asked against my soft skin._

_"Oh God Yes."_

Somehow while I'd been remembering he'd moved up to be right in front of me, his mouth of by my ear. "I seem to remember you were rather grateful for that cup of coffee."

My heart rate was back up to a thousand miles a minute. By the end of the case I'd be lucky if my heart was still in my chest.

"Don't get your hopes up on the same display of gratitude," I managed to tell him, feeling rather ballsy. I even managed to push my way past him to the table. When he joined me I took the files he'd smartly brought in from him and started reading, though I'd left my reading glasses in the car. Each word intensified my headache. But if I let myself look up at him I might just have given up my gutsy resolve.

"What do you think?" Rossi asked me after enough silence.

"What?"

"The case. What do you think?"

I let my mind trace back over the cases she'd read about. Each killed the same way, a point blank shot to the forehead, and each had ligature marks around their wrists and some even had then around the ankles. There was evidence that they had all been gagged. "From the evidence, my money would be on mob hit."

"My thoughts exactly."

The coffee came, we drank, then we were on the way to the police station. One of the best things about Rossi was, however annoyingly seductive he was, he could turn off when it was necessary. When working a case, at least whilst in the company of other persons, he counted it as necessary. Hopefully it'd give my heart a break.

"Special Agents Rossi and Prentiss?"

The woman that greeted us was my height but more muscular. Her skin was a light brown, only shades lighter than the brunette of her hair. Despite her great build she wore straight jeans that showed nothing of her legs, a loosely fitting, tucked in white shirt and a flattening jacket. A woman in a man's word, I knew exactly how she felt.

"That's us," I smiled politely.

"We're glad you've come."

"It's what we do," Rossi stated, his eyes scanning the room, assessing.

And just like that, we were all business.

"Well thanks anyway," she smiled, looking to me rather than Rossi, acknowledging his lack of attention but not really caring. It was nice to have somebody who didn't resent their presence their. Though, after a year, I too would be happy for any small bit of help.

She introduced us around, to the head detective on the case, a big guy with greying hair, a wrinkled face and reading glasses dangling off a tie around her neck over his grey suit. His name was Williams, and I guessed Williams was old school cop. If they were on the same wavelength, I could see him and Rossi getting on well, if they were on opposing sides, it was likely all hell would break loose. Her name was Stacy Tobin, and the other assisting officer, Scott Buckland, a youngen who'd probably jumped at the chance to be on the case a year ago and was now wishing he hadn't been so lucky.

"You up to date?" Williams asked.

Rossi nodded. "But give us your once over anyway."

The man nodded, assessing Rossi as Rossi did the same to him. "Twenty people dead. All different nationalities, ages, sexes. First in this spree was a year ago next week."

"This spree?" I asked.

"We've had similar before," Tobin explained.

"We'll need those files," Rossi told her before turning back to Williams, motioning him on.

Tobin handed off the collecting of files to Buckland as Williams continued. "They've been found all over the city. Some washed up, some were found buried." I made a mental note to draw up one of those maps Spencer always did, they seemed to help so what was the harm. If they really were going up against the mob they were going to need as much as they could. "We've still got five of the bodies in the morgue collecting dust."

"And the gun was the same Colt 1911 MKIV Series 80?" I asked.

To give him credit, Williams' eyes widened only a little bit. "That's right ma'am. The burning around the bullet wound suggesting-"

"It was pushed right up against their foreheads," I finished. It all did fit with the stereotypical mafia execution, right down to the swimming with the fishes part.

"So what to you need our help with?" Rossi asked. I got his question, what could we do to help them, other than give them access to FBI resources. And then I clicked, FBI resources. No wonder they welcomed us so cheerfully.

"Catching the son of a bitch," Tobin answered.

.

We started with the tedious job of rereading over all the reports and casework relating to the case. We didn't stop for dinner, Buckland ran out and brought us back noodles, and we kept on working. When my eyes started to close and the words I read stopped being held in my mind I sat back and let my eyes shut for only a moment. I stretched my arms out in front of me. I would've stood to do it had I felt I wouldn't topple over.

"Eyes starting to cross?"

I turned to see Rossi sitting at a desk across the room, too stretching. My eyes wanted desperately to shut again. "They started crossing about an hour ago."

The room around us was dark, lit only by various lamps indicating a desk still manned. There was no sound other than that of the occasional typing, the scraping of pen against paper.

"Mine too. Home time?"

If only we could go home, I thought. But the idea of the hotel room that waited, a hot shower and warm sheets was second best. It was to late to call Declan, but I could do that in the morning before he was off to school. "Please."

Rossi laughed then made his way to his feet. It took me considerably longer to do so and by the time my legs were straight he was behind me offering me my jacket to slip on. I was too exhausted to do anything but slide into it.

When we got to the car he opened my door for me and I couldn't resist, I smiled at him and got into the car, letting him shut it for me. I felt I'd already given up completely on my ballsy deviance of his advances but I was too tired to fight it. Plus, it wasn't like he was pushing me back against a wall or pulling me tight against him, he was just being nice. I wasn't sure which was more dangerous, him being nice, or him being assertively seductive.

He walked me to my room and I hoped to God he didn't try to come in because I would probably have let him. He didn't. But he did place a light kiss down on my lips.

We said good night, I walked into my hotel room with my head held high then collapsed against the door as I shut it behind me. I was a goner.

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Hope you liked it.  
>I find already, my writing style is changing as I read Emma,<br>but I hope the more description is to your liking. :)

x


	4. Chapter 4

My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV. A little more comedic than my other fic's,  
>I'm kind trying out a new writing story. So read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)<p>

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I pinned up the map I'd coloured and circled on the board and came up with the UNSUB's 'safety' zone. I stood back to study it and sipped at my third cup of coffee for the day. The only problem was the safety zone took over most of the city, though I did manage center it within a six-block radius where thirteen of the twenty bodies had been found.

Behind me, Rossi made a non-committal grunt.

"It's something…" I told him, not bothering to look around. Maybe I should just leave the colouring in for Reid.

"That it is."

I near shat myself when the voice that answered me didn't belong to Rossi. I let out a deep, calming breath before I turned to Williams with a smile on my face.

"Sorry for scaring you."

I shook my head, smile still in place. "Just a little tired." I turned back to the map. "This should give us a starting place to look when searching for the UNSUB."

"I could've told you that," he pointed out, then shook his head behind me. "No offense."

"None taken," I sighed.

The rest of the day was similar to the one before. Rereading reports, eating takeout, trying to find some snippet of evidence. The profile was easy, but it fit just about every male connected to the mafia, and a few women. It was likely a male, but I couldn't be sure. Women might be generalized as more emotional, but as assassins, they could shut it off. Unlike most men, they didn't hesitate. What they could be sure of, was that it was done professionally, otherwise there was no way they could've left absolutely no evidence.

It was nearing a time too late for dinner when I finally gave up. I turned to Rossi. "Let's go out."

He let a breath out his nose that constituted a laugh. "Where?"

I turned to Tobin who was looking at me strangely; the outfit she wore was practically the same she'd worn the day before. "What's the most frequented Mob bar in this city?"

She barely had to think before she answered.

I turned back to Rossi and smiled. "There."

.

I told Rossi not to bother driving back to the hotel, but I did adjust my outfit in the car. And I didn't miss his eyes traveling over to me as I did so. I untucked the white V-neck I wore, pushed up the sleeves so they sat above my elbow, pulled it down and pulled up my boobs until my cleavage was looking as good as it could in what I wore. I pulled off my belt, redid my makeup and dabbed a little perfume in the center of my breasts.

Finally, I yanked out my hair and watched it hang down past my shoulders.

"Done?" Rossi asked me with a snort.

"Yes actually, I am," I said, poking out my tongue at him and giving him a light nudge.

But when he pulled over I regretted it straight away. We were here already and now he was looking at me like a tiger its prey. I couldn't move as he studied me, his eyes focusing on my lips. It was like he had me hypnotized. Hell, he did have me hypnotized. I was completely under his spell.

But I had to break it.

I took a deep breath in before I actually managed to speak. "Let's go, shall we?"

He grunted, leaned over and pressed his lips against mine. He only let them push, let them tease until he'd pulled a moan out of me, then he was back on his side of the car straightening the business shirt he wore. His smile was smug. "We shall."

The bar was a haze of cigarette smoke, tainted with the smells of good beer and expensive whiskey. The lighting was yellow and red, intimate, but not it a strip club kind of way. It didn't seem hostile either. It seemed friendly, well, as friendly as a Mob bar could be.

However, the looks sent our way when we walked through the door verged closer to murderous than welcoming.

Our heads held high, we made our way to the bar, ignoring the looks as many of the men ignored us.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked, stereotypically drying a just cleaned glass.

Dave turned to me and asked if I wanted a glass of red. I laughed and turned to the bartender, "Scotch on the rocks."

His smile was of appreciation, as was Rossi's when we caught each other's eye. He didn't break the contact as he told the bartender he'd have the same. My heart was starting to race again.

He took my hand and I couldn't bother to try and pull it away. I was too captivated by him, too seduced.

His finger traced my palm, but his dark eyes still looked into mine. "I would've taken you for more of a bourbon girl." His voice grizzly, almost making fun of me, held so much more than the light comment.

I smiled and turned back to the bar, taking my hand with me. "You don't know me that well Rossi," I commented, purposely using his last name.

"Oh really?" He seemed so close. I could feel the hairs stand on my neck.

I was saved when the bartender returned and gave us our drinks. He smiled at me and leant against the bar, paying no attention to Dave, I smiled back as flirtatiously as I could.

"So where are you from?" He asked. His voice had taints of Irish in it. Anything he said would've sounded beautiful.

"Virginia," I smiled back.

"Here for a holiday?"

"Work," Dave answered.

"What do you do?"

"We work for the FBI. Here investigating a bunch of deaths."

I shot him a look. I might have actually been able to get something from the guy who, lets face it, wasn't exactly bad to look at. Now he knew who we were, he weren't saying nothing.

"Hmm…"

"Yeah. Twenty-or-so have been killed over the last year."

"What's it got to do with me?"

"Nothing," Dave smiled, sipping his drink slowly. "We're just here for a drink."

Both men stared at each other and I felt caught in the crosshairs of their testosterone. The moments of tense silence hung just a little longer than awkward. Dave nodded. The bartender nodded. The bartender left. Men!

When I shook my head, Dave looked at me. His eyes wide, eyebrows high, the look of innocence. "What?" I was caught between the urge to laugh and shove his shoulder and continue sipping my drink.

I decided on the latter.

Why had I wanted to come? I'd wanted to spend time with him, to have a break. Yes, the idea of it being a mob bar was just an excuse for that. But still, I didn't know how to feel. About anything. This was a bad idea.

"What's wrong Emily?" suddenly his voice was suddenly serious, compassionate.

I felt like an idiot. I'd just wanted to have fun, but nothing about this relationship was could be described with a 'just'.

"Nothing," I sipped at my drink. The last way I wanted to be feeling was what I was feeling right then.

His eyes narrowed, his arm snaked its way around my waist and he pressed his lips softly against my head. All I wanted to do was cuddle into him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I returned, but I didn't quite have the strength to push myself away from him.

"Let's go," he told me, his voice was still soft.

"No," I told him, finally managing to pull up straight and down the rest of my drink. "I feel like enough of an idiot already. Let's just have some fun."

"Nope."

He dragged me off the chair with the arm that wrapped around me, paid for the drinks and picked up his coat with his free hand, then lead me out the door. I didn't fight it. I didn't have the strength.

.

He practically carried me to my room. He unlocked the door, he put me down on the end of the bed, he fluffed the pillows. When he was done he moved down to me to lie me down. I would've rejected it if it didn't feel so good to be pampered a little bit.

"Now what's wrong?"

I buried my head in the pillow, then pushed myself up on my elbows to look him straight in the eyes. What was wrong was stupid, well, in my opinion it was. But I didn't say that. Instead, when I answered my voice was firm. "There is _nothing_ wrong."

His eyes narrowed at me, I held my ground, and eventually he nodded. I'd won this round, but I knew it was far from over.

"Get your clothes off then."

My eyes widened in shock.

He reached in and kissed me, his mouth demanding. He didn't give me much of a choice. But I didn't fight it either. I pulled him on top of me, was yanking at his shirt, pulling at his belt, as he started to unbutton my blouse. My fingers matted in his hair.

We were naked and rolling on the bed. His teeth making their way slowly down over my body. He didn't bother about hurting me, just took. I moaned and gripped the sheets as he hungrily bit.

I was just about at my crest when the phone went off.

"Don't," he murmured when I went to get it. We lay in silence listening to the sound of the ringing as if any sound we made the caller could here. I was shaking with anticipation of what he would do to me.

"I can't," I finally said, grabbing at the phone.

"Emily Prentiss?"

"That's me," I answered, not immediately recognizing the voice.

"It's Stacy Tobin, we got ourselves another floater."

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Hope you like it. :)

x


	5. Chapter 5

My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV. A little more comedic than my other fic's,  
>read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)<p>

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

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I've been on the job a long time, seen a lot, I work with serial killers. The sick ones who enjoy mutilation, rape, violence, bondage etc. Yet still, I didn't exactly enjoy the seeing of bodies. Especially bodies that have been soaking up dirty river water for a decent amount of time. He lay there, on the concrete by the river's edge, his skin white and baggy.

I hated the fact that my profession meant I couldn't gag, turn away, or even make a face. The smell was horrible. Yet still, I couldn't get the smell of Rossi, that expensive cologne mixed with sweat, out of my head. He stood no closer than a meter from me, yet it clouded me.

"Single GSW to the head," the ME told us, not that I couldn't see that from my position over her. The only break from his blue skin and faded, destroyed clothing, with the red of the wound.

"How long ago?" Rossi asked.

"Can't tell," she replied as efficiently as he had asked. "I'll have a better indication once I get him to the lab. Water screws with the decomp. He could've been killed, then dropped in the water, killed, held in a locker for a few days, then dropped, or even chucked in a freezer first."

"Any other traumas?" I asked.

"Not that I can see. Just shot point blank. There's burning around the wound, just like the others."

"How can you not do anything? Just stand there?" I asked nobody in particular. My eyes shifting back in forth as if scanning my thoughts like a book.

Rossi's eyes widened mockingly. I could tell he was making fun of me. My eyes narrowed at him. "You're not helping."

"Sorry," he laughed, but then turned serious again before relooking over the body. "Fear? Seduction? He could've though of it as a game?"

"Doubt it," I commented. I kneeled down, as the ME did, to look over the body. "Fear's more likely. Intimidation."

"So he's male."

Both the ME's and my eyes widen as we looked up at him. "Women can't be intimidating?"

He shook his head and smiled. "You certainly can. But I'm saying it's more likely that the UNSUB is male."

"Maybe two of them," the ME added. "A team. Two mobsters. More intimidating, more muscle to move the body, more hands to clean up the mess."

I considered it. I did make sense. I'd though of it myself.

"Now all we have to do is find them."

Easier said than done. I had visions of spending the day neck deep in reports again, I wouldn't let it be. I'd go out into the city, knock on dam doors if I had too.

I slipped into the passenger seat as Rossi got into the other side.

"Want to go back to the hotel?" he asked. I knew exactly what he meant my _that_.

How badly did I want to go back to the hotel.

"No. Just get me some coffee," I sighed and lay back against the leather seat.

.

So the plan of knocking door to door didn't exactly pan out. You couldn't exactly go door to door with the picture of a practically blue guy with saggy skin to the whole neighborhood. So instead, I spent it looking around for friends of the victims. There weren't many. Well, any. People didn't exactly want to step forward to talk to FEDs. It was like a gang killing, but worse somehow.

"If you think of anything…"

"We'll call," the man answered with a smile prior to shutting the door on my face.

I sighed as I walked out into the not so busy city street. Brownstones lined the wide sidewalks, cars lined the skinny street. There was no rubbish littered, but autumn leaves floated over the pavement, stopping it from looking too perfect.

When my phone rung, I answered it with a voice that was the female equivalent to the male grunt. "Emily."

"How's the search going?"

"These people won't talk to me," I complained.

"It's cause you're a Fed."

"Well I got that."

I leaned against his car, which he'd let me borrow, and studied the street. It looked normal. There weren't drug dealers everywhere, young men leaning against walls. There were families, fathers going to work, mother's dropping kids at school before they too went off to the office.

Normal.

"So what are you going to do?"

I let out a huff of air. I was asking myself the same thing.

"I don't know. I'll get back to you."

Pushing myself off the side of the car, I started my way down the street. I'd seen a coffee shop down a block or two, maybe I'd get a coffee, maybe a biscuit to go with it, maybe more than one biscuit. The air was cool, crisp but not uncomfortable. With my red scarf wrapped around my neck and my grey coat, I was perfectly cozy.

When a car pulled up into the space free ahead of me, windows tinted, I slipped my hand up under my coat and hugged it around the pistol that was sitting on my hip, hidden from view. The driver got out and opened the door for the man in the back seat.

Fear rippled through me, yet I pushed my chin high. I was not easily intimidated, or at least, I wouldn't let myself appear to be.

The man who got out had grey hair, a strong, angular face and a friendly smile. It was the smile that got me. Another difference between the gang and the mob. If I didn't know better, feel it in my gut, it'd probably smile back at that man as I passed him.

He leant against the car and watched me. I forced my eyes ahead of me and kept walking.

"Detective Prentiss?" he asked. He sounded like a normal citizen.

"That's me," I told him, still looking forward, still walking. Yet I saw out of the corner of my eye him nod at his driver then start walking after me.

My heart was starting to hurt as it banged against my chest. I let out a slow, deep breath and tried to calm it. When I figured out that stilling it wasn't going to happen, I focused on keeping my pace constant, my appearance unfrazzled.

"I hear you've been asking around about some of my friends."

"Do you have some information to give me?"

He laughed, cold. I felt the ice of it send shivers down my back.

"Something like that."

I stopped and looked at him, my eyes meeting his, talking all the balls I had. "And what is it that you want to say Mr…?"

"Mancini."

"Mr Mancini, what information to do have for me."

"That you should be careful."

My stomach dropped.

"Should I?"

"Yes. We wouldn't want a pretty young thing like you to get hurt," he said it in kindness, fake kindness, but still kindness. The threat was still evident. My jaw tightened, my fingers curled into fists.

I stepped forward so we were practically nose-to-nose. "As lovely as that is, I can take care of myself. I don't let little boys with guns scare me."

He shrugged and smiled at me. I felt my heart stop for just a moment. I don't know how, but I smiled back then walked passed him back to Rossi's car.

"Be careful," he warned. More of a threat than a warning.

"Will do," I called back.

.

My heart was still hammering when I walked into the precinct. Obviously something showed on me because many heads turned.

"Guess who I just ran into?" I didn't wait for a reply. "Mr Mancini."

I pulled off the blazer I'd been wearing and slung it over the seat, then the blouse under it joined it so all I wore was a muscle back single tucked into my slacks. Suddenly I felt incredibly hot, sticky with sweat.

"Mancini?" Rossi asked.

"Grey hair, tall, angular face?" Tobin.

"Him?" Williams asked pulling up a picture on his screen and turning it so I could study it.

"That's him."

"Who is he?" Rossi asked.

Tobin replied, "Mancini Sr. Head of the Mancini family."

Rossi's eyes widened.

"Yeah, sounds right," I nodded. "Does anybody have a cigarette? I need a cigarette."

Rossi's eyes widened even further.

"What was he like?" Rossi asked at the same time as Tobin asked, "What did he say?"

"Not much," I explained, walking over to Williams who held out a box of cigs and a lighter. "You should be careful… yadda yadda yadda. Honestly, he reminded me of Ian."

And that was what was getting at me.

The feelings I had – maybe still do – for Ian were always complex. He was an assignment, somebody evil for me to pretend to get close to. The problem had been the pretending part. I'd fallen in love. Though, I did think I'd done pretty alright at pretending to my team that I hadn't fallen for him. But I still loved him. As sick, as horrible, as evil as he'd been, he'd loved me. He had looked after me, and he'd looked after his son. Under all the evil, he was a good man.

And that was what was getting at me.

Along with how similar Mancini was to him. I didn't like to see him, the head of an evil family, behind the killing of twenty people, as a person. But then again, Ian had killed just as many.

"You okay?" Rossi asked again as I snapped back into reality.

I nodded and lit up the cigarette, not particularly caring about any rules they had about not smoking. I took a deep drag and felt the poisonous smoke fill my lungs. Before Ian came back, I hadn't had a smoke in three years. Then he returned and I couldn't help it. He died and I couldn't help it. My heart still ached at the loss. I'd nearly managed another six months, but now, at just the thought of him, I couldn't resist the urge. It didn't exactly make me feel great about myself.

Still sucking up smoke, I began to flip through the sheets of paper on my desk. Before I knew it, Rossi was right behind me.

"What are you looking for?" He asked me in a soft tone.

My heart ached. I desired to do nothing more than curl up against him, let him hold me. But I held my own, taking another deep drag.

"He threatened me. Which means we must have stumbled across _something_ he doesn't want us to."

"Okay," Rossi said, his voice was still compassionate. I wished it wouldn't be. "Let's get to work."

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Hope you liked it.

x


	6. Chapter 6

My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV. So read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

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"The same gun?"

"The exact same gun," the ME told me as she stood across from each other over the dead body of a yet unidentified victim. "Same burn pattern. Come see," she motioned.

I followed her to a magnifying glass. She looked first, adjusted a few of the knobs and then stepped back. I did the same as she had. What I saw was a bullet, close up, with ridges in it and I thanked the Lord I wasn't in forensics.

"That's the first one," she told me, then grabbed another case from the shelf and set it up as the first one. "And this is the second."

From what I could see, they were the same. But then, my education in forensics stemmed from watching too much CSI:Miami.

"The first was the most resent. The second, from the first case, almost a year ago."

"The exact same gun," I nodded.

"I know it's not really that helpful in finding the guy," the ME sighed, leaning against the counter. "But it's evidence than can be used against him."

"Hmm…"

"I heard you had a run in with Mancini Sr."

It had been a few days since, and it irked me that we'd found nothing yet.

"That I did."

"Don't let him get to you," she smiled. "You're going to find these guys, then using my _amazing_ evidence, they're going to put them in a cell."

"Where they will either be regarded as heroes, broken out, initiated into a gang or killed."

"At least the last is a positive outcome. That's a 25% chance."

I let myself laugh at that. I needed to let loose, so badly. I was greatly thankful for the ME and her cherry positivity. "Thank you."

"For what?" she smiled, picking up a scalpel to starting cutting into another body. "I'm Sophia by the way."

"Emily."

.

"Let's go," I told him, marching into the room. My stride held determination from my anger at Mancini, anger at my slight fear at Mancini, anger at myself for once loving Ian and still loving him and on top of all that, anger that by body didn't seem to be able to keep up.

"Where?"

"That mob bar we went to."

I swung my jacket on, shoved my keys deep into one pocket, cell into the other, then looked up to Rossi who sat looking back at me. "Coming?"

He just nodded.

This time we went back to the hotel first so I could change. I swapped my slacks for light, tight jeans, my maroon V-neck for an equally tight, white muscle back. I pulled on tight black boots and yanked out my hair from its tie. Twirling in the mirror, I was quite proud at how I looked. I managed to mix bad-arse with sexy. When I caught Rossi's eye in the reflection and realized he'd probably watched me get changed, I smiled rather than blush. The outfit, plus the build up of determination had me feeling confident. "How do I look?"

"Sexy," he murmured, walking to me and snaking an arm around me, using the other hand to brush my hair back from my face. My breath caught in my throat. "So sexy."

I tried to laugh and pushed him away, picking up my leather jacket on the way out of the apartment. "Let's go."

We were at the car before her grabbed me again, this time pushing me up against the smooth metal. He pulled up one of my legs so it wrapped around him, running his hand up my thigh. Not even kissing me, just looking deep into my eyes as his hand ran higher and higher.

Oh God.

I dropped my head back and let out a deep moan. But when he started to undo my sipper I squirmed in an attempt to push him away. "No," I laughed, pushing his hand away. "We're going."

"Oh really?" He murmured against the skin of my neck, his stubble tickling me.

"Yes really."

I slid into the car, he shut the door behind me, walked around then we were off.

I didn't know what had gotten him so horny, but whatever it was, it'd gotten it's claws into me too. And I couldn't afford to be horny right now. I had a plan. Well, I sort of had a plan. Go to the bar, ask around, maybe eavesdrop a little. Okay, maybe I only had the beginnings of a plan. But it was a plan. And I didn't want it ruined because I decided to spend the night trapped underneath Dave. Though, I thought with a sigh, I wouldn't be to bad a night.

When he laughed I turned to him with judging eyes. "What?"

He smiled like a man with dirty thoughts running through his head. Had he read my thoughts? He just caught my eyes. Oh God, he'd totally read my thoughts.

"Eyes on the road."

He laughed. "Yes ma'am."

.

"Back again," the bartender commented as we took seats at the bar. Though he didn't exactly sound happy about it. "What can I get you?"

"Scotch on the rocks," Rossi answered for himself. The barman nodded.

"Can you do a Black Russian?"

He smiled at that, obviously liking my choice. "I can."

And with that, he made his way back down the bar.

I swiveled on my seat to look past Rossi at the room. For the near thirty men in the bar, there were only two women other than me. One was a young blonde, sitting on the lap of a much older gentleman, and the other in her fifties with hair as dark as mine surrounded by men of her same age who seemed to be treating her as one of the gang. The second one nursed a dark drink and sucked on a cigarette. It made me crave for one.

As for the men around the bar, they were all pretty similar to the Doyle/Mancini type, and the others all seemed sleazy and suspicious. Only a few looked my way. I wondered if they could see the nice big target Mancini had painted on me.

Meanwhile, Rossi did his own scan of the room.

"Here are your drinks," the barman said, dropping on the bar in front of us. In the same tone he added, "You shouldn't be here."

My eyes widened, as did Rossi's. "Excuse me?"

"Do you have a death wish?" he asked.

The narrowed my eyes, Rossi just took a drink. I let out a deep breath before I answered. "I'm just doing my job."

"And you're going to get killed doing it," he informed me before turning to Rossi. "And you're just going to let her. Some man you are."

Rossi's eyes narrowed as mine had, his fingers tightened around his glass so tight I thought it'd break. I watched as he forced each finger to loosen. "If I thought it'd do anything, I would try."

The barman shook his head and started to head off.

I let out a sigh as I called him back. Rossi looked at me with surprise, but it faded to a smirk when I spoke. "Do you have a smoke?"

He shook his head in disbelief, but got me a cigarette. I placed it between my lips and I leant forward for him to light it for me. It felt so good.

"They're bad for you, you know?"

I narrowed my eyes playfully, blowing out a puff of smoke in Dave's face. "So if all that fatty food you eat, yet you eat it anyway."

"It's not going to give me lunch cancer."

"It's not going to give me diabetes."

He narrowed his eyes, I narrowed mine. I couldn't help but laugh, he looked so cute.

"So what's your plan?" he asked me.

I pursed my lips. My original plan only got me to the bar stool, anything past that was pure improv. I went through my options, and there weren't many. I could ask around, see if anybody knew anything, though I would likely get absolutely nothing from that exercise it would lead into another possible plan, which was get Mancini annoyed enough at me that he leaves a window open for me to climb through and catch him.

"I think I'm going to wing it."

He let out a quick breath that somewhat resembled a 'hah'. "Wing it?" He asked, shutting off any look that threatened his composure. "Fine. Okay. You do that."

"I will."

I hopped from my chair and took a long swig of my drink. A little liquid courage never hurt anyone. I pulled the photographs from my purse and started showing them around. Of corse, nobody knew anything. The young girl knew the name of one of them, but could give nothing more. One day she was there, the next, she wasn't. As I'd thought, I didn't get anything of more substance.

"How'd it go?"

"How'd you think?"

He smiled and finished his drink. "Is there anything else to this plan of yours?"

I pushed him, but finished off my drink. "Nope. I think all the groundwork has been laid. I'll just go to the ladies, then we'll be off."

.

I checked up my makeup in the bathroom mirror, fluffed my hair. I was allowed a small dose of vanity. I pulled down my shirt and up my boobs. I may have not had great plans for getting something on the men killing for Mancini, but I had great plans ready for the night. I was going to take David back to my hotel room and do dirty, dirty things to him that may or may not involve ties.

When I turned I found myself face to chest with a rather tall, rather bulky man. I looked up with narrowed eyes and felt my heart stop with fear. I went to step back, despite knowing better, and collided with another body. A cold sweat came over me.

"Let's go for a walk, or we might have to go talk to your boyfriend…"

It was sad that the first thing I thought of replying was that he wasn't my boyfriend. Thankfully, I thought better than to say it.

"Take a sniff," the man behind me said.

Then darkness took over.

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Hope you're liking it.

x


	7. Chapter 7

My latest criminal minds fic. Emily's POV.  
>A little more comedic than my other fic's, I'm kind trying out a new writing story.<br>So read, enjoy and tell me what you think! :)

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

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When I awoke tied to a chair, my throat raspy and dry, my first thought was _not_ _again_. The room around me was dark and I couldn't make out quite where the floor ended and the wall began. Trying not to move too much, I shoved to the side and found that the chair was stuck, quite solidly, to the ground below me.

"Don't bother."

I squeezed my eyes shut, pressed my lips together as a sort of _dammit_.

Despite the darkness, I saw the two figures walk towards me, they were each a decent foot or two taller than I would be when standing. I tried to focus my eyes. One, the tallest had dark hair, the other none. "Two men," I said, looking at them. "Each about 6"2', 6"3'. One bald, the other with short brown hair." It was a guess on the color, but their reaction told me I hadn't don't too bad.

"Don't bother darling," one of them said. "There ain't no signal down here."

"How sure are you about that?" I asked. I don't know where the sudden balls came from, but I was going to run with it. I saw one of their jaws tighten, as did the fists of the other.

"Shut up," one of them ordered me.

I just looked up at him in defiance. I wasn't prepared when the blow hit my face, but I didn't do anything. I just took it, spat out a mixture of spit and blood, then looked back at them.

"What do you know?"

"About what?" I asked innocently.

His fist connected with my face again and pain rushed through me. "You might as well tell us. You're going to die anyway."

"Well then why would I tell you?"

This time when my face was crashed into, I felt and heard the crack of bone breaking. "That's why. And it'd stop us from having to hurt that boyfriend of yours."

It was then that the fear took over, not even the adrenaline could mask worry for Dave. I didn't want to see him hurt. The only problem was I didn't exactly have anything to tell the two men in front of me.

"What do you want to know?" I sighed.

One of the men laughed. "Looks like we found her soft spot."

My mouth clamped shut as I fought the urge to spit on him. Meanwhile, I slowly worked my hands behind my back, trying desperately to gradually loosen the bonds that tied them together.

This time, when I spoke, it was through closed teeth. "What, do you want, to know?"

"About everything sweetheart. Everything."

.

"Garcia, I need a trace. Now."

"Okay sweetie, let me just… yes. Who do you want me to track? What's the number?"

Rossi rattled off digits and back in front of her computer, Garcia's eyes widened. "That's…"

"I know Garcia. Just find her."

He couldn't sit, couldn't stand still, so he resulted to pacing. He hated knowing there was nothing he could do. He'd nearly punched several unhelpful people at the bar, had somehow managed to restrain himself, now wished he had. He may have had to make do with a wall. How could he let this happen? He didn't know what he'd do if he lost her, not again, especially not at his fault.

Angrily, he flipped through the case files they had. All the possible UNSUBs, he saw more than a hundred of them, how was he supposed to narrow it down? They all fit the criteria. He thumbed his fist down on the desk and went back to pacing.

He muttered more than a few unsavory words in Italian. He could see her – her dark hair, white skin, red lips – and felt his heart ache. He hadn't even told her how he felt!

.

My hands now freed, I started working on the binds that held my feet to the chair. I had spotted the piece hooked into the belt of the taller of the two men and had started plans on how to get it. I reckoned if I lunged, I just might be able to, but the problem was that I was still tied to the chair. I didn't like the chances that I would be able to shoot them both before one of them shot me. But my opening was slowly closing. It wasn't like I had anything to entice them to stay. Honestly, if they'd just left us be, we probably would've never found them. It just irked me that if I just died, they still might not be found.

I kept talking BS and watched as they bought it. It was kind of sad how they lived up to the gullible henchmen stereotype.

"Okay, we know you're lying," the brunette said finally, pulling out his gun to aim it at me. I sore my opening.

With a grunt, I lunged forward a twisted the gun from his hands just as the shot was fired. He hit the bald one dead centre in the torso. Lucky shot. I hit the floor and felt the pain fire through my muscles, but I managed to keep a hold of the gun. I pushed myself around then let off four shots above me at the figure.

When I heard him hit the floor, I let out a mixture of sighs and labored breaths. My whole body ached. I was pretty sure I'd broken my jaw, or at least my nose. Each separate muscle was on fire. I tightened my grip around the gun as I started to see flashes of colour in front of my eyes.

I hoped to God Dave would somehow work out where I was before somebody else found me and decided to finish of the job dumb and dumber had failed at.

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Hope you're liking it.  
>Please tell me what you think.<br>More to come. :)

x


	8. Chapter 8

I am super duper sorry for the length of time it's taken me to update. I've had internals and my little sister was in hospital and yada yada yada. I did plan on leaving you waiting, but not this long. so my apologies. i hope you enjoy it and tell me what you think. :)

x

Disclaimer: I own nothing, absolutely nothing. The characters etc are not mine.

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I came to with the sound of people all around me, the feeling of body beneath my head. I squirmed and tried to aim the gun, but it was gone from my hand. In defense, I tried to grab a hold of whomever it was who was holding me. But arms encircled me, making it impossible to move.

"Shhh…" he murmured.

I kept fighting. I was not going to die, not on the cold concrete floor in some basement.

"Shh Emily," the voice said, more demanding now. "It's me." The compassion in the last phrase had me stopping my attempts to get away. "It's me, Dave."

I shuddered as the walls around me fell to ruins. I let myself me pulled in and held like baby against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, I let it sooth me. My body still ached, with every bit of movement, it ached, but it was worth it to be surrounded by Dave.

After the tears that had started to fall sometime after my awakening started to cease, Dave helped me to get to my feet. I found I couldn't stand by myself and was thankful to have him to lean against. He continued to soothe me as we made our way up the staircase to an ambulance waiting for me.

I don't remember getting in the ambulance, must have slipped from reality again.

My eyes opened again in the vehicle, found Rossi's hand gripping mine. I smiled up at him and he smiled back, weakly, it almost looked as if he'd been crying. It broke my heart. Looking up at his face, I started to feel the world spin again and closed my eyes to try and steady it.

When I work up again, I was in a hospital room, surrounded my the clean smells of the hospital, mixed lightly with expensive cologne and floral perfume. I expected to find Rossi be my bedside, flanked by a nurse. But instead, when I pealed open my eyelids I saw JJ resting her against the bed I lay in.

"Jay…" I murmured.

"Emily," she said, shooting up, grabbing a hold of my hand. "Oh God, Emily. Why do you do this to me?"

I laughed, weakly, but I laughed. "Just to make sure you still love me enough to come."

The blonde who'd been my close friend now for quite a few years scrunched up her face and gave me a very light, playful push.

Rossi walked into the room and both of us stopped our laughter. We both met his eyes. I tried to calm myself, but my heart was aching for him. I forced a smile. "So how did you find me anyway? I thought I'd managed to hide myself quite well."

"Garcia tracked your cellphone. Idiots had taken it off you but had left it on up the top of the staircase where it still got signal."

I laughed and felt pain in my gut. Okay, so I could laugh, just not hard.

"You okay?" JJ asked me. I saw the worry in her eyes so shrugged away the pain.

"I'm fine Jay. Would you mind getting me a coffee? I really need one."

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Rossi asked, though his voice was less serious now than it had been before.

"I could be asking for a smoke, couldn't I?"

Jay's eyes widened, but she said nothing. "I'll get you that coffee."

Both me and Dave watched her as she walked down the hall, turning to each other only when she was out of range. I pulled myself up onto my elbows to look straight at him and before I knew it he was beside me, stopping me from moving.

"Don't," he told me. "Don't push yourself."

"I'm fine," I murmured. "Fine."

"No your not," he said with a shake of his head, but I knew he understood how I felt. He'd been in the same position. He knew the only thing I wanted to do was get out of the hospital bed, into some slacks and get to bed. Sadly, I knew he wasn't going to let me do that. It was the one downside about us being together.

He pulled my hand to his mouth and laid kisses against my knuckles, then unfolded my hand to press a kiss against my palm. Shocks ran up my arm and through my body. I forgot about all pain and about the tiny downside of having to rest.

He let my hand lay to rest against the bed then pressed a kiss to each of my eyelids. "Sleep," he told me. "You need it."

"I need _you_," I murmured as I drifted away.

. . .

"Are you sure you don't need me to stay?" Jay asked me as I made my way to the couch. I tried incredibly hard to keep my walk steady. What I wanted was some time to myself, or at least, without Jay. Don't get me wrong, I loved her, still do, but she can get a little too much.

"I'm fine," I told her, grabbing her shoulders to look her in the eyes. "I'm. Fine. Now go get some sleep, _you've_ got work tomorrow." I pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before walking her out.

I shut the door, slid the deadbolt across then collapsed onto the sofa. I questioned a bath, but that was if I could actually manage to get to the bathroom. I stared at my bedroom door, knowing that I would have to get there, then another eight feet to my bathroom door, then to the bath, then draw the bath, then get undressed… It all seemed like too much effort.

Maybe if it didn't bother to undress…

My thought train was interrupted by a knock on the door. I moaned. If it was JJ I was going to kill her. I didn't bother to grab the gun from the coffee table draw like I usually would, didn't even look through the peephole. I yanked the door open.

"Good evening," he smiled.

I pushed the door open to let Dave in and made my way back to the couch.

"Aren't you happy you don't have to go to work tomorrow."

I simply moaned.

Dave laughed and set himself up in my kitchen. I didn't look, but I could hear the unfamiliar click of the stove being turned on. I was one who didn't much use my kitchen for anything other than housing my junk food and to heat up leftover takeout. I let myself relax and let the aroma of whatever he was cooking fill me.

When I awoke, he had set the table and was pouring us each a cup a wine.

"You're allowed to drink, right?"

I nodded, and pushed myself up to look at him. I wiped my tired eyes with the back of my hand. "It's smells amazing."

"Here's hoping it tastes amazing."

"I'm sure it will."

I let him help to the table, and as he held out my seat for me I brushed a soft kiss against his lips.

The food tasted even better than it had smelt, which was a pretty near impossible feat. As we ate, we talked about nothing in particular. No serious topics, we just enjoyed each other's company. It continued after the food had gone. Even as we moved from the tiny dinning table to the couch.

As I relaxed further, I sunk deeper into the fabric and closer towards David. Soon, I was practically sitting on his lap. He took my empty glass, and his, and placed them together on the table, then reached over to press a gentle kiss against my forehead. I sighed, closed my eyes and leaned into him.

"Try not to get kidnapped again," he told me, only half playfully.

I smiled. "It does happen a little to often. Next time, you can be the one abducted."

"Deal," he smiled at me.

Somehow, he managed to sweep me over so that I lay down on the couch, his body floating over mine. He held himself so that none of his weight rested on me. Softly, he pressed his lips against mine. I sighed once again.

His hands were gentle as he pulled my shirt over my head, then lay me back down again. He pulled his shirt from his body with the same delicacy. His eyes scanned over my body, but I didn't feel judged, rather appreciated.

"You are so beautiful."

His mouth lay soft kissed down my chest, over my torso, stopping at my breasts. He tried each with the same kindness, then traveled further down my stomach. My muscles quivered. I wasn't used to this compassion. David was a kind man, truly, but when he came to lovemaking, he usually took me up in a tidal wave that left me shaking, exhausted, and wanting more. Yet, his gentle touch had me feeling the same way.

As his mouth moved over the crouch of my jeans I left out a moan. He smiled. "So beautiful."

He undid the button, then the zipper, then as slowly as humanly possible pulled the denim from my legs.

Then he stood at my feet and once again rolled his eyes over my body. I knew from his vantage point he could see all of my scars. Though they had patched me up pretty good, I knew the scraps and cuts on my face still looked vicious. I knew the bruises that covered me were still dark. I knew he'd see the scar from where Ian killed me. I shuddered.

My breathing was harsh, by heartbeat rapid, and we hadn't even done anything yet

He looked so handsome. He wasn't perfect, no. His belly wasn't split into six, and it had a sprinkling of black hair over it. His face, that could flick from loving to hating in a matter of seconds, was wrinkled and rough. Yet the attraction I felt towards him was stronger than that I'd felt for any other man. Maybe it was because of the other feelings I had for him, the ones I tried to hide.

"You are _so_ beautiful."

"So you've said," I smiled.

When he came around to my side, slid his hands under my back and lifted me into his arms I let out something halfway between a laugh and a scream. I gave him a soft punch.

He carried me like then into the bedroom then somehow managed to undress the bed whilst still holding me. I wrapped my arms around him for dear life. Once it was free of covers, David place me down, then took me was a softness I had never experienced, not even on my first time.

. . .

The light was off and I was curled up against him, his strong arms holding me tight. Each of us were still covered with a thin layer of sweat. Even more than my still sore muscles, my heart ached. I cuddled in closer.

I wondered if I could ever be like this against him and not worry about everything. I hated the idea that if anybody found out, one of us could loose our job, or both of us for that matter. The thought that in the morning, he'd go to work and pretend he'd never came to me, never cooked me dinner, never kissed me with such a tenderness that nobody could compare to.

I looked up and saw his eyes closed. Beneath me I could feel his heart beating, his chest expanding with each breath. I loved him. The realization shocked me a little bit, though it probably shouldn't have. I didn't know quite when I'd fallen, but it had been a while ago. I loved him, and I couldn't tell anybody. Not even him.

I felt tears swell in my eyes, but I pushed them away. I didn't want sadness, not now. Instead I cuddled even closer.

"Ti amo," I whispered, needing to just hear the words and pretend he was listening. _I love you_.

I fell asleep like that, close to him.

He waited until I was out to squeeze me close, press a light kiss to the top of my head and smile. "Ti amo anche io." _I love you too_.

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Hope you liked it.

x


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